


Sinking

by Fallen_feather92



Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: Complete, Luke grows attatched, You can't tell me he didn't, baby katrielle, episode 20, lmj, uncle luke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:40:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24946261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fallen_feather92/pseuds/Fallen_feather92
Summary: When the ship goes down, and Luke is left adrift, trusted with the life of a newborn baby, he doesn't know when he'll be rescued, or if he will. He does know, however, that he has to do everything to make sure this little girl survives. My take on the time between Luke's ship going down, and the rescue in Episode 20 of the anime.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 13





	Sinking

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! So I’m new to AO3, but not to writing Fanfiction in general, haha. I just finished watching LMJ and hoo boy. So I decided to write this! Luke is my favorite character, by the way, and I love seeing how he’s grown up!  
> Well, this is only going to be a one shot, but here we go!

Luke grinned as he hugged his parents at the dock, giving them both a squeeze.

“Are you sure about this, son?” Clark asked as he and Brenda let go of their son, tipping his blue fedora back to get a better look at their fifteen year old boy.

“Yes, dad,” Luke laughed, bending down to grab his duffle bag. “I’ll only be gone two weeks for Spring Break, and I have the plane tickets back right here,” he added, patting the bag. Clark and Brenda glanced at each other unsure about this. Both had a bad feeling about letting their son get on the boat that would carry him across the Atlantic to London, by himself. But, they also knew he was smart and responsible, and that he wouldn’t get himself into trouble.

“Just be careful. And make sure you don’t spend too long in Southhampton before getting over to London,” Brenda fretted, kissing her son’s forehead and adjusting the collar of his shirt, just as the ship’s horn blew. He glanced back, before smiling at his parents.

“I have to go,” he said, giving them one more hug, before running off, his bag bouncing off of his hip. He was just joining the queue to show his boarding pass and get on board when he heard a loud thump behind him. Glancing back, he noticed a heavily pregnant woman with dark, curly hair, struggling with two large suitcases. One had just fallen over, and she was having a hard time reaching it to pick it up.

“Ah, here, let me help you,” Luke said, going over and picking up the suitcase on the ground. The woman blinked at him in surprise, before giving him a tired smile.

“Thank you, young man,” she said. Luke frowned slightly, hearing the exhaustion in her voice, and nodded, offering her his free arm to lean on. Clark and Brenda, who’d been watching, chuckled at this, shaking their heads.

“My name is Luke. Luke Triton. And you are?”

“Kamilla Azan.”

“Once a gentleman, always a gentleman,” Clark said warmly as Luke and Kamilla showed the boarding passes, then Luke helped the woman onboard the ship.

* * *

The storm hit very suddenly, and very violently. This wasn’t Luke’s first time on a ship out at sea, not even during a storm, but this was one of the worst. The crew came pounding down the halls, slamming on everyone’s cabin door and telling them to get to the mess hall. Luke, who’d been writing in his journal, quickly got up, following their directions, his luggage forgotten in his cabin. As he ran with the crowd, he heard a cry of pain from one of the cabins, and froze, recognizing the voice.

“Miss. Kamilla?” he called, knocking on her door.

“Luke?” the woman inside called back between pants. Luke pushed open her door, and froze at the sight. It was obvious the woman was in pain. She was clutched her stomach, sweat rolling down her forehead and cheeks, mixing with tears. Luke clenched his teeth, shaking himself out of his stupor, and ran over.

“We have to get to the mess hall. Here, let me help you,” he said, carefully taking the woman’s arm and pulling her up, half carrying, half supporting her weight after the rest of the crowd.”

* * *

Clark and Brenda watched the weather report on the news, their hearts in their throats.

A tropical storm had formed in the Atlantic, right in the area they knew Luke’s ship would be.

“Clark…” Brenda said softly. Clark nodded grimly and hugged her closer, knowing there was little else they could do, but watch, and wait.

* * *

By the time Luke reached the upper deck with the precious bundle in his arms, it was already flooded, chairs and left behind luggage floating in the violent water. The deck was listing at an almost 45 degree angle. It was all the fifteen-year-old could do to stand upright, and pray that the left behind lifeboat hadn't been swept out to sea. 

But finally, he found the tiny raft, and he let out a sigh of relief, rushing over to it, holding the baby closer to him.

Luke wasn’t sure how he managed to lower the life boat into the heaving water, while holding a newborn, then get in the life boat and keep it right up in the heaving waves. But by the time the sun rose on calm waters that morning he was exhausted, soaked, and freezing.

The baby, who had been quiet through the storm, finally made a noise, looking up at Luke with wide, scared blue eyes. Luke looked back at her for a moment, blinking his own tears back.

“Morning,” he mumbled, gently laying her down on the floor of the raft – had he been holding her all night while fighting with the waves? – and reaching into the survival kit. He first pulled out a blanket, which he wrapped around himself, forgetting, in his exhaustion, that his wet clothes would only serve to keep him cold. He then pulled out a bottle of water, and some dry rations, before picking the baby up again. Then he froze in realization. “I… I don’t have any milk, or formula or anything to give you,” he said, more tears springing to his eyes. He looked around, hoping to find some kind of ship, but nothing but blue met his eyes. Blue water, blue skies… blue blue blue.

The baby made another noise. Luke looked back at her, then back into the survival kit, hoping there was something – anything he could give her. “If only Miss. Kamilla were here. She’d be able to nurse you,” Luke muttered as he dug, finding another blanket, a few more bottles of water, and – “Aha!” He pulled out a can of powdered formula from the bottom of the pack, and nearly sobbed in relief. He knew he’d be able to go without food for a day, two at the most (they’ll be rescued soon, right?), but for a new born baby…

He carefully measured some of the powder into a bottle of water and shook it up, before trying to figure out how to feed it to the baby, finally deciding to dip his fingers into the mixture, then drip it into her mouth. It was slow, but it seemed to work. Once the baby was no longer hungry, Luke opened a pack of the dried meat for himself and chewed on it, pulling the blanket closer around himself and the baby and looking around. But still, he saw nothing but blue.

* * *

Two days after the storm, Clark’s office phone rang. He grabbed it quickly, his stomach lurching. “Clark Triton speaking,” he answered, as calmly as he could.

“Hello, Mr. Triton? This is Officer Brahm. I was part of the search and rescue team looking for the crew and passengers of the ship your son was on,” a gravelly voice on the other end of the line said. Clark’s stomach flipped at that, and he sat back in his chair.

“Did you find him? Did you find Luke?” he demanded.

“I… no, I’m sorry. The captain of the ship said your son had stayed behind, to help another passenger, who had went into labor. He’d left behind a life boat for the two of them, but… it’s the only life boat still missing,” Officer Brahm replied, his voice soft and soothing. Clark put a hand to his mouth, his mind flashing back to the woman Luke had helped onto the ship.

“No…”

“I’m… sorry, Mr. Triton,” the officer said, before continuing. Clark shook his head, not hearing the rest of his words, before hanging up the phone and burying his face in his hands. Brenda knocked lightly on the door, before coming in, a tea tray in her hands. She had heard the phone ring a few minutes ago, but had thought it might be the University, or maybe even the museum. Seeing the position Clark was in now… she dropped the tray, her hands jumping to her mouth as tears filled her eyes.

“No…”

* * *

The first ship Luke saw had been three days after the storm, and about a day after he realized there was not enough fresh water for him to continue drinking it, and for the baby to be well fed. So, he'd stopped drinking the water bottles. 

The baby was in his lap, in the shade cast by the blanket, while Luke's face took the full brunt of the UV rays. He was digging in the survival kit, hoping for anything that might help, when something moved over the water from the corner of his eye. He looked up quickly and spotted a cruise ship. 

"Hey!" he yelled, swinging his arm, not daring to stand, in case it tipped the raft. But it seemed like no one heard him. He took a deep breath and yelled louder, but there was still no reaction from anyone on board. 

Determination surged through him, however, and he grabbed the oars, making sure the baby was secure in his lap, and paddled hard after the cruise ship. 

_It's moving kind of slow, isn't it?_ a small voice in Luke's mind whispered. Luke ignored it, though, and continued to paddle, making sure his movements were strong to push the little boat as fast as he could. That's when another thought came to mind. _Where's the wake? Shouldn't we be in the wake of the ship by now?_

Luke froze and slowly turned his head, looking at the ship again, for the first time, noticing the image was shimmery, and semi-transparent. 

"It's a mirage," Luke whispered, having read about these in his books. As soon as he realized the image of the ship faded. Luke blinked a few times and looked down at the baby, who was looking up at him with those big blue eyes. "It wasn't real." Luke's shoulder's dropped, and he picked up the baby, cradling her against his chest, trying not to let his fear of not being found consume him.

* * *

The baby was a fighter. That much was obvious. Luke did his best to keep her warm, fed, and kept in the shade from the harsh sun that was starting to turn his face and ears red. It’d been about a week now, as far as he could tell, since the ship went down. Try as he might to stretch his rations, he was out of food, and he still hadn't touched the water supply for himself. Only for the baby. He was starting to feel exhausted and hopeless, curled up in the bottom of the raft, cocooned in the blanket with the baby against his chest, letting the raft simply drift with the currents, not even knowing which way to paddle.

The baby squirmed and looked up at him, almost seeming worried about him, and Luke couldn’t helped the tears that filled his eyes. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t save your mother,” he muttered. Then he heard it. A loud creak, like heavy cloth being pulled taunt. He turned and saw, in the distance, a large ship gliding on the water.

Hope filled his chest. The last few ships he'd seen hadn't made noise at all, as they'd all been mirages. Did that mean this one was real? He lifted his arm. “Help!” he called, waving his arm around. “Down here, please!” The ship continued forward, almost like it was going to glide right past them. Fear clutched at Luke’s chest, and he tried to yell louder. “Stop! Please, help us!” Then the baby let out an ear piercing scream. Luke jumped at that, wincing slightly. On the ship, a few heads whipped around, and the men on board the ship finally noticed the tiny life raft bobbing in the water.

A few minutes later, Luke and the baby were pulled on board. A man with a stethoscope around his neck rushed over to them. “Young man, what is your name?” he asked, leading the shivering boy over to a seat, immediately noticing the soaked clothes and sunburned face. He also noticed the baby in the boy’s arms.

“L-Luke Triton,” Luke said, before breaking down in relief.

* * *

Professor Layton was not an emotional man, by any means. It was rare to see the man cry. However, when the news that his closest friend’s ship had gone down at sea, he’d been scared. He waited, with baited breath, to see if he’d made it off on one of the life boats, but when word came that he’d not been with them…

But now, he was staring at the letter in his hands, barely seeing it through the tears blurring his eyes. It was short, and the handwriting, while definitely Luke’s, was messier then normal, and uneven, marked by exhaustion, it would seem.

‘ _Dear Professor Layton,_

_This puzzle I’ve encountered may cause both of our fates to change greatly. I was asked to bring someone to you, at any cost, and to request that you find an archeologist named Kyle Azan. I’ll explain more when I see you._

_Love, Your number one Apprentice,_

_Luke Triton’_

Layton brushed the tears from his eyes and grabbed the envelope the letter had come in, checking the return address, before nodding to himself, rushing out.

* * *

He arrived at the Southhamption Hospital in record time, briskly walking up to the front desk, and tipping his hat to the attendant. “I am here to see Luke Triton,” he said.

“Ah, yes, he came in last night, along with the baby,” the nurse said. Layton blinked in surprise at that, wondering what that meant. “Let’s see, he’ll be in room 203. Up the steps and to the left.”

“Thank you,” Layton said, before following her directions. A doctor was just stepping out of the room as he approached. “Doctor? How is he?” he asked. The man turned to him.

“Professor Layton, correct?” the doctor asked, glancing up at the top hat. Layton nodded slightly at that, and the doctor smiled. “Luke will be okay. He was dehydrated, hungry, and exhausted when that fisher ship found him and bought him in. Apparently, he'd been adrift at sea for about a week," the doctor said, before shaking his head. Layton relaxed at that. “He’s asleep, now, but you can go in and see him, if you’d like. I was just about to go call his parents again.”

“Thank you,” Layton said, before quietly slipping into the room. Luke was, indeed, asleep in the bed, a drip feeding him nutrients and rehydrating him. His cheeks, nose, and ears were red, showing signs of sunburn, but nothing that seemed too serious. Professor Layton sank into the chair next to Luke in relief, taking the boy’s hand.

“You gave us quite the scare, dear boy,” he said softly. Just then, there was a distressed noise from the other side of the room. A bassinette had been set up near Luke’s bed, and inside—

Luke was immediately awake, struggling to sit up, his eyes snapping over to the bassinette. The baby inside was squirming, seeming upset.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Luke said, leaning forward, careful of the drip, and picking up the baby. Layton watched all of this in stunned silence, not sure what to think. So, instead, he gave a polite cough. Luke jumped slightly and looked over at him, before smiling warmly.

“Professor!” he said gleefully. Layton smiled warmly and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Hello, Luke. It’s good to see you again.” The boy shifted around in bed and hugged the professor as tight as he could with one arm, the other still holding the baby. Layton looked down at the little girl, and chuckled. “It seems we have a lot to discuss.”


End file.
